


Ikea Day

by Kendrene



Series: Of all the shades of love and other things [4]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Angst, IKEA, Oral Sex, Smut, it's just a tiny bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2017-04-26
Packaged: 2018-07-22 04:29:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7419805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kendrene/pseuds/Kendrene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Clarke decides to renovate a bit and buy everything for a new living room, she drags Lexa along for a trip to IKEA. Can Lexa survive the harrowing trial? </p>
<p>OR</p>
<p>Clexa buys furniture, they build it and find the time to sin in between.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The second - which unless they run away on me will be the final chapter - should be up by the end of the weekend. I have not written in this style for a while so, if you see anything jarring let me know and I will fix it. (Please remember English isn't my first language. Advice helps me improve). It should also be the last story for this running series.
> 
> This fic was written because of @lowiiie who gave me a prompt to run with.
> 
> A special nod to @Nekef and her Italian!Lexa

Lexa really didn’t want to go.

When her phone went off, reminding her it was “Ikea Day”, she groaned, throwing an arm across her sleepy face. The phone only beeped louder and she sighed defeated, kicking the blankets away irritably.

“Fuck.”

She cracked an eye open, groaning at the stab of early sunlight that filtered through the curtains and glanced at the hour. She definitely had no time to spare for twisting with regret around the bed. She had promised Clarke she would pick her up by 8.30 a.m. so they would be there early enough to “beat the crowds” as her girlfriend had put it.

Dragging contrary limbs out of bed was a task in itself, and when she made it to the bathroom the reflection painted on the mirror was one of quiet disbelief. She discarded her shorts and tank top and stepped under the shower in a daze, wondering again what kind of dark magic Clarke had used to make her sign up for this expedition. She tilted her head back, eyes closed and laughed quietly at herself.

Like she could refuse Clarke anything.

The sound ended in a gurgled cough when scalding water poured down her throat, jolting her out of her reverie, She rinsed the soap off quickly and toweled her body dry, before padding to the bedroom to gather some clothes.

She did not know where the primal knot of apprehension that had dug itself a den in her stomach came from, but she could not get rid of it. Perhaps it had to do with Anya’s stories that depicted the store as a place of torture.

Or perhaps her sister was just fucking with her.

Lexa shuddered, the ghost feeling of unknown - and probably sweaty - bodies pressing into her from all sides almost painful on her skin. She pulled her clothes on, knowing there was no sense in delaying the inevitable.  Her phone chimed again, with a message this time and, when she thumbed it open, she was greeted by a photo of Clarke holding up a hammer with the biggest grin on her face.

A second message came through.

“Builder Clarke is ready to go.” She read the words with an affectionate chuckle and shook her head resigned. She walked to the door, stuffing the keys of the rented truck in her pocket. She really could refuse the woman nothing.

She really didn’t want to.

* * *

 

The heavy traffic was the first sign the trip was a bad idea.

“Big, _big_ mistake,” she muttered under her breath, hoping the radio would cover her grumbles. They swung into the parking lot and another car promptly cut them off, racing for what must have been the only empty spot in miles.

“What?” Clarke looked up half distracted from the open Ikea catalogue she held on her lap. She had been flipping through it the entire time, and judging from its state, not for the first time. Several pages were earmarked for reference. A few were falling off.

“Nothing babe,” Lexa ran her knuckles softly against the blonde’s cheek, giving her a fond smile. It was Clarke’s day and she would make sure her girlfriend got everything she wanted from the cursed place. Even if it meant fighting swarms of other shoppers to the death. With her bare hands.

Finally parked, they joined the steady stream of people moving towards the entrance. Clarke left her side quickly to recover a trolley. When she rejoined her, Lexa felt a brief, reassuring squeeze around her hand. Lines of distress faded from her face at the contact and she felt the tension ebb away in little shockwaves. The pressure at the base of her skull eased and she stretched her neck with a sigh.

Lexa’s walls went back up as soon as they stepped inside.  

It was a mess and Lexa liked order. She gently wrestled the trolley from Clarke and clung to it tightly. The handle dug painfully into her palms. The cart felt like a barrier of sorts, and it eased her hiking breaths.

As she trailed after Clarke her eyes darted from one place to the next. The entire thing confused her, furniture and accessories strewn everywhere without method. It was probably an attempt to keep people trapped long enough that they spent their whole paycheck without noticing.

Crowds roamed in the trampling way of buffaloes, leaving utter chaos if not destruction in their wake. Everything was so _loud_ and glaringly bright. Kids wiggled away from their parents’ grasp like eels, running amok as if the store was their giant playground.

They came across a couple heatedly arguing over the shade of a curtain, and Lexa could not help but frown in disapproval, while an unwelcome meal of queasiness joined disquiet in her stomach Her mind tricked her nastily, and she saw herself and Clarke five, ten years in the future, arguing about the same stupid things.

Slight sickness turned to nausea and her eyes roamed desperately around, looking for a distraction.

She picked up the first item she could reach and turned it around a few times, wondering what the hell it was supposed to be.

“It’s a lamp,” Clarke prompted helpfully, “and you are staring at it like it offends you, hun.”

“It’s…” she licked her lips, searching for a word that would not wound Clarke’s sense of aesthetic.

“Ugly.” The blonde completed and her amused snort was a feathered tickle along Lexa’s ribs.

It was kind of cute how those beautiful green eyes could look so piercing and blunted by puzzlement at the same time. Clarke gleaned nervousness in the steely posture of Lexa’s back as the brunette perused the lamp’s description. She bit the inside of her cheek, guilt blossoming inside her chest at having dragged Lexa along. She should have just asked Raven. Then again Lexa, allergic to crowds as she was, would have been hurt at having a substitute, Besides, she concluded to herself with a silent eye-roll and a bemused smirk, it was basically impossible to tear her friend away from Anya.

Lexa huffed, glancing at the lamp’s label one last time, before putting it back on the shelf.

“ _Soncha_? Where do they even find these names?” she exclaimed, “it’s like they tried to play Scrabble with their eyes closed. Or drunk.”

Clarke chortled in amusement, “sounds like something Raven would do.”

“Don’t give her any ideas, please.”

They exchanged a rueful grin, and Clarke saw her girlfriend’s shoulders relax, the taut muscles of her neck loosen.

She ached to cup the nape of Lexa’s neck and knead her flesh softly to hasten the process, but she knew the brunette was not one to show that kind of close affection in public. Too many shoves in school, too many jeered insults would make anyone iffy about that. Clarke contented herself with worrying an Ikea courtesy pencil between her fingers as they walked. She glanced fretfully at Lexa when she thought her girlfriend wasn’t looking.

Lexa could feel the flashes of ocean blue scanning her face, love and worry brightening and clouding the color in turn. She faked indifference, but her chest contracted around her unease. Its shell cracked inside her and it drained from her in rivulets as they walked. Her steps felt lighter and more assured. She would not choose to come back here of her own volition, but she could follow where Clarke led.

She struggled to hold back a burst of mirth as the blonde rushed forward and launched herself on one of the couches on display. Clarke landed with a small huff and sighed contentedly, running her hands along the leather surface with abandon. Lexa’s eyes were glued to the slender fingers caressing the couch. The faintest hint of heat pooled between her legs as thoughts strayed to less than innocent places.

Something must have shown in her eyes, because Clarke’s darkened to night with hunger and the tremor that ran down Lexa’s back swallowed the last dregs of her nervousness.

“I need to buy it before you can fuck me on it, Lex.”

Clarke patted the spot next to her, smiling sweetly as she enjoyed watching the inner workings of Lexa’s jaw. It clenched rhythmically, in that way it had when she was feeling too much or not enough. Finally the brunette broke the invisible roots that tied her to the floor and let herself fall next to Clarke with little of her usual grace.

She stood up almost immediately, a furious blush inflaming her cheeks. She glared at Clarke, as if it was all her fault. The blonde did not miss the way she pressed her thighs together momentarily. She had to lean her head away as she got to her feet, satisfaction plain as midday sun on her face.

They moved deeper into the store, and Lexa had the feeling of getting lost inside a modern forest made of plastic, glass and straight clean lines. Clarke made arrangements with the salespeople as they went: a coffee table, shelves, lamps (thankfully not ugly ones) and an assortment of knick-knacks were settled on.

“Clarke how much did you plan to spend?” Lexa, who had been keeping tabs on the purchases and where to pick the objects up, tapped the pen she was carrying against her chin, before marking down another item.

“Well I calculated everything, but I know I’ll spend more than intended!” She pointed excitedly to their left, “let’s go get the curtains!” She scampered off and Lexa followed with a sigh. Her feet were starting to hurt, and under the fluorescent lights she had lost track of time. She did not have the heart to look at her phone’s clock.

“It does not tell me how much budget you have.” She resumed patiently, toying with the end of a curtain sample. The fabric was thin, almost ethereal. She ran the pads of her thumbs along it. It reminded her of Clarke’s hair when it brushed her cheeks in their love-making.

“I like this one…” Lexa trailed off, unsure. She didn’t want Clarke to pick something just because she liked it. It was Clarke’s living room they were renovating after all so she felt she had no say on the matter. Warm fingers traced her knuckles and tangled with her own for a brief moment in a not-so-accidental touch, before Clarke slid her palm along the curtain.

“It will match nicely with the couch.”

Clarke caught the dawn of a self-pleased smile alight at the corner of Lexa’s mouth, and her fingers squeezed harder on the brunette’s before she took her hand away.

“We are almost done,” she whispered so softly, Lexa had to lean into her some to catch her words. The brunette nodded, cool green gaze warming into gratefulness and Clarke thought about how lucky she was. She had thought about that a great deal lately, and had been working up the courage to ask Lexa to move in with her.

She had practiced for hours in front of the full mirror in her bedroom, but the words always sounded hollow to her ears. Not because she didn’t mean them. Simply, it was hard to convey the emotion shaking her every bone like the wind of a summer tempest when she had only herself to stare at. Her hands were another problem. She tended to fidget and just clasping them in front of her to keep them still made her look too detached for her liking. 

Perhaps the problem could be solved by holding Lexa in her arms as she asked.

Clarke directed a fond look at her girlfriend, who was staring at the list of her purchases with a distant expression -probably trying to figure out the total.

She reached out and gently steered Lexa towards the self pick-up area. Clarke would pay and she would treat her to lunch.

The self pick-up was a veritable maze, Lexa thought as she pushed the trolley slowly down an aisle, trying to find shelf 13. She admitted begrudgingly that the system was brilliant in its simplicity.  In theory. The harsh reality was that a lot of lost souls, looking just as confused as she felt, would be stuck roaming the endless corridors forever. She thought she saw Clarke up ahead, but elation burned to ash quickly in her chest as the woman turned for a moment in her direction.

A firm hand dropped on her shoulder and tugged her backwards, making her lose her hold on the trolley. She was spun almost roughly, then caring arms rested on the curve of her hips as the elusive yet familiar scent of Clarke’s skin drifted to her nose. The blonde must have been very close for it to fill her so completely.

When Lexa opened eyes she had unwittingly shut at the sudden movement she realized just how close they were. She felt herself go rigid for a moment, ears perking up in expectation of well-known slurs - dyke, freak.

She heard only distant chatter and the quieting, assured thump of Clarke’s heart. The blonde had begun to pull away as soon as she had felt her stiffen, but Lexa’s gentle hands latched onto her forearms, keeping her in place.

“Hey,” the sound was rough.

Clarke visibly winced as it seemed to scratch her throat.

“Hey yourself.” Lexa titled her head to the side, allowing herself a moment to swim in the lapping, blue waves of Clarke’s eyes. Her fingers played along the blonde’s arms, touch careful, before she gulped another mouthful of her.

She was intoxicated by the light hint of sweat.

She ended the hug slowly, and leaned in before stepping back completely, to graze the barest of kisses on Clarke’s forehead.

She had seen the line that had formed between Clarke’s eyebrows. Her lower lip had jutted out and quivered in mild panic at the realization she had stepped into Lexa’s space. It was something they had agreed to never do in public, but Lexa did not resent Clarke for the ambush. Nervousness had crept back as she got lost in the narrow alleyways and the hug had tethered her when she had started to drift towards well-worn anxiety.

They gathered the last few things on the list and made their way towards the cashiers, lining one side of the store in neat rows.

When they lined behind the checkout queue, Lexa was so absorbed in her mental calculations she didn’t realize they had stopped until the trolley she was still pushing bumped gently into another customer. The man waved off her apology with a distracted frown, too intent on the display where the total of his purchases was growing at breakneck pace. When their turn came, Clarke handed in her paperwork and as her own total appeared on the screen Lexa had a hard time keeping her eyebrows from climbing up her scalp. She could feel the skin around her eyes bleach of color as the green orbs widened at a pace with the multiplying numbers.

How much stuff had they just bought exactly?

* * *

 

 

Clarke watched the meatballs roll around in Lexa’s plate. She fought down the smile pulling at her lips. It was hard to keep a straight face. Lexa’s great-grandmother had been Italian and something in her girlfriend’s blood had her rebelling at the notion that the Swedish could make good meatballs.

“They say they invented them you know.” She teased lightly. Lexa dropped the fork with a clatter and glared daggers at the food.

“They _wish_!”

Clarke could not help but laugh, and the brunette dipped her head to hide a blush before joining in. It was a gentle, silver sound that reminded Clarke of hidden waterfalls. Lexa wasn’t one to laugh often, and smiled sparingly. Clarke had thought she didn’t find her funny when they started hanging out. She had tried _so_ hard to make Lexa laugh. The first smile they had shared left her lightheaded.

“I...I’m sorry babe,” Lexa murmured, abashed by her outburst. A lock of chestnut hair fell across her eyes, dimming the vibrant green for a moment and she bit furiously on her lower lip.

“At least try one?”

Lexa picked at the meat doubtfully, then speared a meatball through and lifted it up for a closer look. The dish sparked the memory of a trip to Italy. She had been little, eight at most, and the whole adventure had acquired a hazy glow over the years. There was one image that was still as sharp as the day she lived it. Her great-grandmother, bent over by age, placing an enormous plate of homemade pasta in front of her and staring until she ate everything.

The look, expectant and a little hurt that Clarke was giving her now, felt very similar.

She sniffed at the bite sized food, then brought it to her mouth and chewed.

The meatball had looked slimy, but the taste was delicate and it melted on her tongue. She had to swallow a tiny whimper with the food.

It was a bit sweet from the berry sauce she had dipped it in and she could feel a hint of nutmeg brush the roof of her mouth.

Lexa had to admit it was quite good.

“It’s ok,” she conceded, wiping some sauce from the corner of her mouth.

Her stomach growled loudly, choosing that moment to give away the lie. Clarke’s smile widened, but she did not poke further, happy to watch as Lexa wiped the plate clean.

* * *

 

Later, as she carefully drove the loaded truck along the highway, Lexa reached out, grazing her fingers along the back of Clarke’s hand. The blonde turned it palm up and their fingers entwined, and they held on quietly for a while. Clarke’s hand was warm and dry against hers, and she felt a tingle travel up her arm and spiral around her heart.

She cleared her throat.

“I had fun,” the admission shocked her, but it was true. That morning she had never thought it possible.

Clarke raised an eyebrow, blue eyes smug. “Oh? So we can go back?”

“Yes.” Lexa nodded emphatically, “well…” she stuttered hurriedly, “not right now. I meant like, in a while?”

“Tomorrow then.”

Clarke’s shoulders shook with laughter at the panic-stricken look on Lexa’s face. Soon enough the brunette’s voice echoed hers and she felt light. Happy.

Lexa gently freed her hand to wipe mirthful tears from her cheeks. She had the feeling they were putting together something far greater than a new living room.

Ikea’s swedish meatballs had nothing on great grandma Woods’ though.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and Lexa get to the building part of the Ikea experience. Also smut, and a glimpse of Ranya.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This...took way longer than expected. Hope you enjoy.

Lexa’s legs shook with effort and she pushed herself upwards with a grunt, the boxed bookshelf shifting awkwardly against her shoulder. With one last huff she crested the stairwell  and leaned the precious cargo against the nearby wall. She bent forward for a moment, hands on her knees, and inhaled deeply to regain her breath. She felt like a modern Sisyphus, condemned by the Gods themselves to shift IKEA boxes for eternity.

She lifted her gaze to the glaring yellow sign stuck to the elevator door and groaned.

OUT OF ORDER  

“When will Reyes come fix the damn thing like she promised?” She blurted out, knowing it wouldn’t be anytime soon.

Clarke joined her at the top of the stairs, the last of her prizes clutched fiercely to her chest. Strands of hair had escaped her ponytail and stuck to her neck and temples, the usual golden hue darkened  to a rich honey by sweat. Clarke’s skin was sheened with her exertion and Lexa’s gaze dropped to the hint of cleavage left exposed by her tank top. Clarke’s scent hung heavy on the tip of her tongue, and she ached to run her lips along the tender spot between neck and collarbone.

At the thought of licking the heated skin and savoring its saltiness, Lexa’s mouth went dry, all the moisture rushing southward.

“When your sister lets her out of bed long enough!”

Clarke’s good natured jab was like a much needed bucket of icy water down her back.

“Anya doesn’t--” Lexa stuttered indignantly. Well, she tried to. It was hard to defend Anya when every word rang true.

As if on cue, Clarke’s phone went off.

She fished it out of her pocket and, after taking a look and rolling her eyes, put it under Lexa’s nose.

Raven stared out from the screen, grinning widely. On her neck was the biggest hickey Lexa had ever seen.

The Snapchat caption read - _will be late sorry. Sexy times_ \- which probably meant she wouldn’t show up at all.

“Proof!” Clarke exclaimed victorious.

“Fine, fine.” Lexa grumbled, lifting her eyes to the ceiling in exasperation. She turned to pick up the box. Truth be told, she was a bit mad at Raven. She had been counting on a pair of extra hands to help put together the furniture. She glanced at Clarke again, and warmth trickled down her back, burning the resentment away. She could not entirely blame their friend.

She nodded for Clarke to go through first, and together they climbed the last flight of stairs to the apartment. Lexa let her eyes drop to the blonde’s toned ass and smirked.

This Ikea thing was not so bad after all.

* * *

 

 

The couch had been the easiest part, Lexa decided as her eyes took in the mess on the living room’s floor. Sure, they got stuck on the stairwell a couple of times, but at least it had come in one piece.

She watched Clarke kneeling on a piece of cardboard, tongue firmly held between her teeth as she frowned down at a half mounted bookshelf. The early afternoon light cast sparks of gold in her hair and Lexa smiled with affection at the delicate frown creasing her girlfriend’s forehead.

Clarke grumbled something under her breath, turning a piece of wood in her hands, blue eyes perplexed. She had not even glanced at the instruction manual, tossing it aside with the rest of the packaging. Lexa went to retrieve it with a sigh, and flipped through the pages until she found the step by step diagram.

She scratched her head. Looked at the bookshelf on the floor, then at the picture. Then back to the bookshelf.

“Uh…Clarke?” She screwed her eyes shut for a moment, fighting to find the gentlest words possible to point out the obvious.

“Yes babe?” Clarke answered without raising her head.

“Uhm…I think you are doing it wrong?” she ended on a half question and cursed herself. This was the lamest attempt at diplomacy she had ever heard. Clarke had learned how to do the odd job around the house from Jake, her father. Lexa knew she had spent plenty of afternoons hidden away with him in their garage, watching avidly as he took things apart to show her how they worked. She wished, not for the first time that she could have met him – Clarke always told Lexa he would have loved her. She wondered why he should have since her knowledge didn’t extend beyond changing a lightbulb. She had told Clarke so in several occasion and received always the same reply- _He’d take one look at you and know how special you are, Lex._ Then her girlfriend would smile gently and pull her in her arms.

A snort jerked her back to the living room.

“Hun, I could do this with my eyes closed.” Clarke twirled one of her father’s tools between nimble fingers and grinned cockily. Lexa lowered her eyes and chewed on her lower lip, hands making wrinkles in the papers as her hold tightened.

“Then why do you have a spare?” her chin tilted towards the piece of wood that Clarke had been studying for the past twenty minutes.

“Uh... I am reimagining the design?”

Lexa raised an eyebrow and Clarke laughed, throwing her hands up in defeat.

“Ok, ok point taken!” The blonde clamped a hand to her neck trying to work out a kink with her fingers. She felt sore and tired from crouching for so long. Maybe it would be best to take a break.

Clarke straightened with a deep sigh, rubbing at the small of her back. Beads of sweat made her eyes sting and she wiped them away with her forearm, her top riding up her hip with the movement, exposing pearly skin. A soft gasp she probably was not meant to hear, made her look up in time to catch Lexa’s tongue darting along her lips. She felt the heat of her gaze on naked skin, as the gentle breeze coming from the open window cooled the sheen of sweat that coated her. The contrast made Clarke shiver.

Lexa took a step forward, green eyes burning to black with inner coals of lust. The instruction manual she had been clutching slid from slackened fingers and fluttered to the ground with a faint swish that echoed the breath leaving her lungs.

Clarke watched mesmerized as her girlfriend prowled across the room, and her legs moved her backwards not waiting for permission. Her retreat was a perfect match to Lexa’s advance, the two of them falling into step as if dancing. Clarke’s shoulders hit the wall with a soft thud and she was sucked in a vortex of forest green as the brunette filled the distance. Eager hands pressed into the wall and Lexa effectively trapped her between her arms, bending forward, head angled to aim a kiss at the side of her jaw. Clarke felt her stop just short of touching and a groan swelled inside her throat. Lexa moved, lips a hair away from melting into skin and blew softly along her neck, teasing more shivers out of her. When Clarke tried to turn to meet her eyes, fingers slid under her chin, tilting her head the other way.

Lexa hummed to herself as she took in the muskiness of Clarke’ sweat. There was something wild about it, yet soothing. Clarke smelled of the sunlight trapped in her hair, and of home after a long time spent travelling. Lexa inched closer, bending her arms at her elbows until her nose was pressed against the paleness of the blonde’s neck. She lingered, feeling Clarke’s muscles twitch as her breath caressed the underside of her jaw. One of her hands trailed along the wall, and rubbed along a well-toned arm before she moved it to Clarke’s front, letting it hover atop the spot where her heart was.

She raised her head a fraction, not wanting to pull away from the crook of Clarke’s neck and flicked a question into her eyes. The blue softened with tenderness and the blonde mouthed a silent yes, then Lexa’s fingers were pressing firmly to her breast. The brunette closed her eyes again, feeling the hastening rhythm of Clarke’s heart vibrate through her fingertips and up her wrist. She pressed the tip of her tongue to her girlfriend’s pulse and the beat jolted and jerked, tugged to a crescendo by Clarke’s shallow breaths.

Lexa’s lips grazed and taunted her lover’s neck, tongue darting in and out to paint bold strokes onto her flesh. She added her teeth and was rewarded by a low moan when they scraped the pulse point. Clarke groaned and tilted her head further back, allowing for more access. A hand tangled lazily in Lexa’s hair, cupped the back of her head in a silent request and Lexa smirked against Clarke’s skin before biting down on her flesh, sucking a mark. The next moment she lapped at it, soothing the pain away.

Her hands found the exposed expanse of Clarke’s side and feathered it with soft touches as the blonde wrapped an arm around the dip of Lexa’s waist, pulling them closer. Lexa pulled her head back, admiring the bruising bite she had left on her lover’s throat – it would be joined by many more before she was done.

Lexa worked tight circles  against Clarke’s hip with the pad of her thumb then brought her mouth back to pale skin, travelling from her neck up to Clarke’s earlobe. She traced its outline with the tip of her tongue, then nipped it lightly, before tugging it with her teeth. Clarke’s arm around her clenched and her fingers dug into Lexa’s back. She knew that had she not been wearing a shirt, she would have felt the scratch of Clarke’s nails and bear red gouges on her skin like a cloak. They loved to mark each other, to leave lingering, gentle pain in their lovemaking. At times it was hidden places, spots that throbbed and chafed as they moved during the day – a bite along the ribs, the hard suckling of a nipple, teeth sinking in the tender flesh of the inner thigh.

Lexa relished the days when feistiness had the best of them, the love marks obvious and exposed to the curious stares of passersby. She wore hers with all the pride she could muster and maybe the hint of a blush. Clarke had always been the bold one between them and that had ultimately been Lexa’s downfall.

Lexa angled her head and their mouths met in a searing kiss. Clarke’s hunger was clear in the way her tongue lashed against the brunette’s teeth and licked at her lips, seeking entrance.

When permission was granted, Lexa sucked greedily at her lover’s tongue and was rewarded with a low growl. They fought for control, a duel of wild sweeps, gentle ripostes and alluring ambushes. Lexa pushed searching fingers behind Clarke’s head until she found her hair tie.

She pulled it free and hair like spun gold spilled on her waiting palms like water from a waterfall.

Clarke felt Lexa’s fingers tug at her ponytail and she smiled softly. Lexa liked to play with her hair, claiming they felt like silk between her fingers. The blonde winced slightly as the other girl’s hands snagged on a few knots and used her hold around Lexa’s waist to spin them around.

Blue eyes twinkling with mischief, Clarke ran her palms up and down Lexa’s sides, fingers poking all the ticklish spots. She had spent many hours mapping out her lover’s body and knew exactly where to touch to make her weak. The brunette writhed against her, trying to escape the torture and when she couldn’t, she let out an annoyed huff in Clarke’s face.

Clarke’s fingers became more insistent and Lexa started to shake, the tickles turning to firm, demanding touches as Clarke’s hands gripped her sides, rubbing up and down, the palms of her hands picking out the outline of the brunette’s ribs. For a moment she was tempted to leave the blonde the upper hand, but then she freed herself with an unexpected twist that had her lover pout in protest, before Clarke was roughly pushed back against the wall again.

Lexa didn’t leave her time to argue the position reversal, silencing her with another heated kiss. Her hands found the hem of Clarke’s shirt and tugged upwards, the blonde lifting her arms encouragingly when she realized what Lexa intended to do.

They broke contact for a moment, as Clarke pulled the shirt over her head, long enough for Lexa to be deafened by the thumping of her own heart, and then the brunette’s fingers were hurriedly working the clasps of Clarke’s bra - who had thankfully chosen to wear one that opened in the front.

As soon as the blonde’s full breasts were free from their restraints, Lexa palmed them eagerly, relishing the way Clarke’s nipples hardened with her touch and the throaty moan that spilled out of the blonde’s parted mouth when she squeezed a little harder.  

The bra fell soundlessly to the floor and Lexa pressed urgently forward, mouth trailing fiery paths along Clarke’s collarbone, before she licked her way to the blonde’s breasts, sucking and biting every exposed inch of her girlfriend’s chest that she could reach.

Clarke arched into Lexa with each bite, relishing the little flashes of pain that made her flesh sting, and the soothing attention of the brunette’s tongue right after. The thought that she would be able to look in the mirror the next day and see herself littered in love bites made the heat inside her grow, and she gushed, her panties soaked through with her arousal.

“My panties are ruined,” she complained halfheartedly even as she eagerly spread her legs a bit wider, hoping her girlfriend would guess the unspoken message. Lexa’s hand immediately dropped down between them, even as the brunette kept nipping at Clarke’s breasts, fingers kneading at her sex through the garment, a mix of soft and rough that made her drip with want. She wanted to lose her shorts and underwear, push her lover down to her knees and pull her head between her legs, but she knew such an attempt would only make Lexa go slower. They had played this game plenty of times and she knew the rules. There was something of lost ritual, a sacred silhouette in the way they paid homage to each other.

It was what she loved about Lexa.

Mercurial in nature, she was reserved to the point of awkward shyness in public, bold-as-you-please between the sheets. Both sides had a sharp edge, and had cut deep when Lexa had unerringly plunged inside her heart.

“Too bad Ikea does not sell underwear,” Clarke jolted at the quip and lost herself in the emerald fire of Lexa’s gaze.

The brunette flashed her a wolfish grin, before shimmying the shorts and wet panties down her legs. The discarded garments pooled at Clarke’s feet and she placed a hand on Lexa’s shoulder as she leaned on her lover to lift first one foot, then the other. She gasped in surprise when Lexa threw the shorts aside, bringing the panties to her mouth and found herself trapped in the verdant depths of Lexa’s eyes while the brunette deliberately gathered a lick of glistening arousal on the tip of the tongue.

Lexa hummed at the taste, Clarke’s musk spreading into her mouth. The  smirk that had played along her lips only grew as Clarke’s eyes turned midnight blue with desire. She flung the balled-up clothing over her shoulder, with a flick of her wrist, hearing the soaked fabric land with a wet splat on the brand new leather couch.

Clarke winced as she watched her ruined undies sail towards the couch and opened her mouth to protest, but air left her lungs in a rush when Lexa’s hot mouth found her glistening sex and she was robbed of word and thought alike, losing herself in the impatient swipes of the brunette’s tongue.

Lexa ignored the burning of her own neck as she craned her head back to better lave Clarke’s pussy with her tongue. She swiped through the blonde’s drenched folds before pressing insistently against Clarke’s clit, relishing the way it throbbed against her tongue. The blonde moaned each time she flicked her tongue against it and when her lips closed around the quivering bud and she began to suck, she felt Clarke’s fingers tangle in her hair, hand cupping the back of her head as her girlfriend’s hips began to rock into her. Lexa sucked harder, eagerly drinking up every last drop of Clarke’s essence, feeling it coat her chin and her cheeks every time she sucked harder and caused the blonde’s hips to jerk in response.

Soon enough Clarke’s moans became breathless, her finger tugging urgently at Lexa’s hair, in a way that made her scalp tingle. The brunette closed her eyes and redoubled her efforts, hands grasping Clarke’s hips roughly as she brought the blonde towards release. Her own sex clenched around nothing as soon as she heard her lover cry out and then she could only swallow greedily as Clarke spilled wave after wave of her essence into Lexa’s mouth.

Clarke swayed in place as her orgasm hit, and she would have crumbled to the floor if not for Lexa’s steadying hands on her hips. She rocked forward, riding her own pleasure and using Lexa’s willing mouth to grind against until the first orgasm tapered off, only to turn into another sharp release as Lexa gave a particularly hard suck to her aching clit.

The room around her dissolved in a kaleidoscope of flashing lights, then as pleasure ebbed away, replaced by a dreamlike heaviness to her limbs, she was lifted in loving arms and gave a small yelp as her eyes flew open.

Lexa simply smiled down at her and swiftly carried her to the new couch.

Clarke’s last coherent thought was that it wouldn’t stay new for long.

* * *

 

Anya heard the distinct noise of a drawer being opened and closed and froze mid lick, mouth still pressed between Raven’s thigh, the brunette’s slick dripping down her chin.

She waited, holding her breath, listening hard until soft bells began to ring inside her skull. Perhaps she had imagined it.

Her tongue resumed its work, painting lazy circles around Raven’s hardening clit and her girlfriend’s fingers twitched in response, the hand she had been resting at the nape of Anya’s neck tightening a fraction.

Then the sound came again and the older woman pulled back, huffing in annoyance when she saw Raven had reached down to slide one of the drawers open.

“Ok, seriously?” she rolled her eyes, grunting when Raven’s hold prevented her from getting off her knees, “we went to Ikea last week so you could look at a new kitchen and you could not be bothered, too busy trying to grab my ass, and now that we are having sex you are checking _my_ kitchen?! Should I stop eating you out and show you the appliances?”

Raven smirked down at her, then stuck her tongue out, mischief making her eyes shine.

“Ever heard of multitasking? We’re in the kitchen and you are eating! Win win for me!”

The brunette grinned down at Anya, watching as the blonde’s brow furrowed, mind obviously searching for a cutting retort. She squeezed the nape of her girlfriend’s neck and pushed her head back down, ignoring the muffled noises coming from between her thighs as she forced Anya’s mouth against her folds.

“Speaking off,” her other hand left the open drawer and found one of Anya’s own, giving a soft squeeze, “why don’t you go on? I promise not to interrupt if you give me a full kitchen tour later!”

Anya didn’t reply, twisting her face to bite the inside of her thigh and Raven’s smirk melted into an open-mouthed moan as she gushed all over the kitchen counter, thighs dropping open further.

If only their trips to Ikea also turned out this interesting...

* * *

 

By the time they were done it was almost dusk. Clarke supposed it would have taken them less time without the sexy interlude, but did not regret a minute of it.

“It didn’t come out half bad,” She surveyed their hard work as they clinked glasses in celebration.

Lexa took a sip of red wine and melted more comfortably into the couch’s pillows. The leather molded comfortably to her back and she almost put her feet on the coffee table before remembering it was brand new.

“When we move in together, I’ll handle the furniture,” she grumbled, hand aching dully,  
“no more Ikea!”

Clarke raised an eyebrow, a small smirk playing along her lips.

“Thinking of moving in together, uh?” she managed to keep a straight face, but Lexa  
noticed the splash of color on the blonde’s cheeks and the brightening of her   
eyes.

“Well, I do plan on marrying you someday…” she trailed off, her stomach fluttering madly even as she said the words.

Clarke’s mouth dropped slightly open, jaws working silently as her brain tried to formulate an answer. Lexa’s heart raced faster the more the silence stretched.

The door they had forgotten to lock burst open, and Raven’s laugh drifted into the apartment.

“Sup suckers?”

Their friend limped around the couch, ignoring Lexa’s annoyed huff and plopped down between them, reaching for the wine bottle.

“So, what do you need help with?”

“We are done Reyes. You came too late,” Lexa couldn’t hold back a bit of snark at the interruption.

“That’s not what your sister sai-- Ow!”

Lexa swung back, ready to punch her arm again.  

Clarke burst out laughing, reaching over Raven’s head to tug a strand of her girlfriend’s hair. Blue and green met, and the world seemed to disappear around them.

“Ugh,” Raven stood, making a face and fake retching in their direction, “I better go before you two get even more disgusting.”

She grabbed the wine bottle, swaying out of Lexa’s vengeful fist with a chuckle.

“You’re wrong Woods,” the wine sloshed around as she jingled the bottle in front of Lexa’s outraged face, before downing a hearty swig. “You weren’t done with _everything._ ”  

**Author's Note:**

> If you can spot the 100 easter eggs you get gelato.


End file.
